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concrete city blocks -

what else was left to stop -

//

around the corner -

at odds -

//

there it was again -

that brittle scrape -

that empty hole -

that flash of light -

that flint in the dark -

//

that empty hallway -

that dim morning -

that unmade bed -

that last tower -

sideways in the sand -

a home for cold hands -

asking for someone -

to count on -

that empty bottle -

a home for warm hands -

asking for someone -

to count on -

when the counting was all done -

::

I was a mourner

in neon

(feel free to stop me)

wide hips

wider bell bottoms

and hair so blonde

it made Farrah Fawcett

blush

::

all that was left -

morning -

and the priest in blue -

soft hands behind the back -

saying -

“you did it all wrong -

best to let it loose, honey -

best to let it loose, honey -

best to let it loose, honey -

“

::

I was a mourner

in neon

red nails and redder shorts

a sailor and cub scout

in an empty pool

asking the song on radio

for summer love

and nobody stopped me

when I mixed up

bronzer and kerosene

::

and I got bored so quick